


your arms around my waist, our lips meet midway (so take me away)

by CrazyLaughter



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Almost everyone's nice, Excess of Larry, Fluff, Happy Ending, Liam being a two-second idiot, M/M, Wedding Crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 16:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2818517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyLaughter/pseuds/CrazyLaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis gets nerves from the wedding. Niall comforts him. Liam is the best man. Zayn just smokes. But, Harry isn't the one Louis' getting married to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your arms around my waist, our lips meet midway (so take me away)

**your arms around my waist, our lips meet midway (so take me away)**

This isn't easy, and Harry knows it. It's fake, and he knows that too. He wonders if his life weren't this way, if he didn't have all this fame, would he have a happily-ever-after? Being a twenty-five-year-old, he doesn't mind. He isn't a sap, but that doesn't stop him from thinking about the future of his love life. It clearly seems a missing puzzle piece for him. Without Louis, it will be.

Now, it seems like crying is nothing but a waste. It is, really. No matter how many tears, screams and profanities are inserted, their minds don't change. All of them are stubborn gits, the whole lot.

Louis' getting married today. Today as in only a few more hours. But not to him. A little too much to take, eh? Yeah, Harry can't even digest it. His head keeps shouting out to his conscience-Louis' getting married. He's getting married... _HE'S FREAKING GETTING MARRIED!_

He knows how much he loves Louis. Louis knows how much he loves him. There's so much clarity in their relationship. But, no, it's not them who're getting married. Even after two months of knowing this, Harry sinks to his knees in the shower, pulls his hair out and shrieks into the air. Nobody hears him. Well, Louis does, actually. He drags him out of the bathroom, wraps his arms around and both of them end up in bed, kissing and crying.

If it weren't for the management, this wouldn't be there. He doesn't understand, why he's tied to their strings. He's a puppet under them. What's wrong with liking other men? With being gay? Or even bisexual? They just can't take in the fact that love doesn't have gender. It's not his fault he just fell in love. Sometimes, he just wants to break free from all these bonds and run away. But, of course, he can't do that.

He imagines how hard it must for Louis than for him. He's the one merely watching while Louis' the one actually taking part in it. He doesn't blame Eleanor at all. She is a sweet girl and she did it because it was partly her job. It's not her fault that she was coming between two lovers. He knew she didn't want to marry Louis either. He knows how her boyfriend, Max looks at her. He knows that Eleanor would do anything to stop this, or at least switch Max with Louis.

Louis is the one who has to face millions of people, he's the one who has to kiss the girl he didn't want, he's the one who has to tell the world that he got married to his 'true love'. Harry is only watching. It will pain him to, but it's less compared to Lou'.

Harry comes back from his thoughts, raising his head from his hands. He smooths back his hair, sighing out of pure disapproval. He's all set, or at least that's what he tells himself. Straightening up his suit, he glances into the mirror and meets tear-brimmed eyes.

He can tell himself a million times not to cry and yet, end up doing the complete opposite. It's not something small for him. The love of his life is getting married right in front of him, exchanging rings right in front of him, but not with him. He doesn't even know when he'll attain the freedom to do so. Yes, he has the chance of divorcing, but why ruin the first experience of a wedding? A wedding supposed to blissful, right?

There's a constant chant in his head saying-it'll be okay. But, for real, he knows it won't. Because not everything has a happy ending. He rummages around for that one thing he knows his left behind. The letter he wrote to Louis. Louis won't read it, but he felt better yesterday night after writing it, instead of shouting.

His eyes fall on the drawer, he snatches up the piece of paper, opening to read it again.

　

_Dear Louis,_

_You aren't going to read this, but I'm going to write it anyways, I don't even know why. I guess it's something through I can tell myself that it's okay, though pretty much, it isn't. My grammar and punctuation aren't really good, but I try._

_Where do I start? Like I said, I'm probably writing this for selfish reasons, only to make myself feel better. But, that doesn't mean I don't want you to read this. I want you to read this, so much, I want to rub it in your face. But I can't do that._

_You know how you make me feel, Louis. It's not the cliche stuttering, brain fuzziness and crazy blushing. It's more like you plant me firmly on the ground, you stop me from flying about. You make me strong, I don't care if I'm using one of our lyrics here. I get nerves even now when I go on stage. But, I can look at you once, and see all the encouragement in your face. I don't have to look back, all my quizziness is gone in a second. I guess that helps me in a way._

_And, yeah, I've read all these fan-fics about you (Yes, I admit it, I do, but I like the Larry ones the best), where your eyes are described to be cerulean blue or icy blue. But they're wrong. They're so wrong. Your eyes aren't 'icy' blue. Because they're never cold, I look into your eyes, and only I'm the one who can judge the correct color. They're grey, with just specks of blue in them, the correct shade. You've got warm eyes, Lou. Very warm eyes. I can find them anywhere between the crowd. When you smile, I swear to God, it's a coincidence, these crinkles appear at the corner of your eyes. It's so so beautiful. I think Ed actually wrote 'Little Things' to mock me. I can tell when you fake it, because the crinkles don't come. I'm writing so much about your eyes, I think I can go on about you for days and days if you want me to._

_I never get tired of looking at you. Your face is a treat for my eyes. People say I make heart eyes at you, it's all your fault. All your fault for being so attractive. All your fault for captivating me. Did I tell you how ridiculous you look when you cross your eyes? I like observing you so much that I seem to know every single detail of yours. These are what result in 'Larry Stylinson Moments'._

_I'm not going to be clingy, because you don't like clingy, and I'm not clingy either. But, a PDA every once in a while is worth it, right? But, we aren't allowed to do that. It's just not fair. All my anger and remorse dissolves when we get home and I'm in bed with you._

_Your voice is so sweet that it can keep me up, but it can put me to sleep too. I can listen to you blabber all day long. Though I won't understand what you say, I like watching your lips form words, and you waving your hands in the air and your incredulous eyes. I probably sound weird when I say I like watching you sleep. You snore contently, your eyelashes fan-down and you curl up like a fetus._

_I can be myself around you, Louis. I don't have to be scared about my stinking reputation or how I have to act in public. When I kiss you, that's when my brain goes haywire. Sometimes, you get so adorable when you're drunk or when you're snoring, that I just want to push you down then and there, and ravish you. Yep, you have that effect on me._

_I can't be someone I'm not. I can't be a player, I can't act like I'm ignorant to the world and most of all, I can't have a fake girlfriend. Both of us know that I haven't done anything to Taylor, both of know that I've done nothing for her to 'break-up' with me. I'm not a player, you know that. I don't sleep around with people, you know that. But the world doesn't, Lou. The world doesn't know about us and our love._

_I don't care what others say, but you're perfect. You don't know how much I want to hold your hand in public, how much I want to kiss you when I want to, how much I want to say 'I love you' to you till you're sick of it. Heck, I think my heart will explode with all this. That's how much I want you, that's how much I need you._

_You scare me sometimes, Lou. I was the care-free and happy-go-lucky Harry. I feel like Too Cheesy Harry now. I've always wanted to travel the world, eat different kinds of food, dance in random streets and live life to the craziest. But, when I look at you...you change my perspective of things. I get sudden thoughts of settling down in a cottage near the lakeshore with you and a bunch of kids and a pet dog._

_You mumbling idiot, I love you so so much. I'm not afraid to admit it, but they won't let me. You are for me and I am for you. If it takes a million years to wait for you, I will. I'm not giving up easily. You stole my heart, Louis Tomlinson. Don't ever give it back to me, keep it with you. You'll always have a piece of my mind._

_We were married in my head long ago. I don't need a legal document and a big fluffy cake to prove that we're each other's. I'm pushing away all the homophobic pricks out there. It doesn't matter to me anymore. We've gone through so much together, I don't think any of it will get to us anymore. It's like we've built walls around the both of us._

_I want to write so much more, Lou, I really want to. But, I can't. There's only this scrape piece of paper and it's blotted with my tears, I can't write more._

_Yours truly,_

_Harry xx_

　

Harry wipes his eyes, folds the letter and places it in his breast pocket. He looks at the mirror for any sign of tear tracks or puffy eyes and straightens up his tie and saunters out of his room and through the corridor, to the end to Louis' room. He knows he has to be strong, he can't be weak in front of Louis. If he's weak, then how will Lou be?

He takes in a deep breath, pushing the closed door to the room. It reveals a large interior will many flower bouquets that he knows, are out of congradulations. In the middle sits the man he knows, opposite to a mirror, along with anothe rman he knows.

Niall is busy rubbing Louis' back, probably saying some brave words that Harry can't. Louis' wistful eyes catch Harry's in the mirror and he croaks out his name. Niall glances at the door, having met with Harry.

"Hey Harry," he says, but the latter continues to peer at the groom in the mirror, until Niall clears his throat. "I'll be outside," he says before patting Harry's shoulder and sliding out the door.

Louis gets up from his stool, facing Harry. Harry feels like Louis' eyes will burn holes through his own, for they're hollow and lifeless. The way Normal Louis' aren't. And, he all he wants to do is hug the life out of the other.

" 'Arry," Louis chokes out. Harry manages a smile and walks over to his lover, gripping his shoulders. It takes him a lot of will power to stop himself from burying his face in the crook of Lou' neck and crying.

"You look dashing, Lou," Harry encourages, scanning his appearance. "Ready to put on a show?"

Louis doesn't say anything. He just looks at Harry with those empty eyes. His bottom lip is quivering and his breathing seems to be at a lower pace. "Don't," he whispers.

Harry looks at the rose pinned on Louis' breastpocket. He can look everywhere but Louis' eyes. He tightens the older boy's tie. "Don't what?" he tries to sound cheerful and he thinks it's working.

Louis catches Harry's hand with his, using his other hand to tilt his chin up to meet his eyes. "You know this is not what I want," he says, and his words are so colorless.

Harry gulps down the bile that rises in his throat, as Louis's eyes train him. "You don't always get what you want, Louis, it's something you should know by now," he says softly. At this, Louis flings his arms around his neck and crushes the air out of him, but, he doesn't mind. He cards his fingers through Louis' already disheveled hair. "It'll be alright."

Louis pushes away. "You don't know that," he says, his tone is unsteady. He's not crying, though. Then, Louis kisses him, long and sad. He knows this is the Lois Lane and Superman kiss, but he couldn't care less. "No matter what, I won't get over the feeling of your lips. I won't crave for another when I have yours," he says so softly, it sounds like the wind. His thumb traces Harry's now-swollen lips.

Louis drops his gaze to his shoes, shoving Harry away from, a few meters away. "N-now, get lost, shoo," he mutters. Harry stumbles out of the room, reality crashing down on him once again.

+++

Harry is sitting in the first row in the church, having a clear view of the diaz on which the bride and groom will come onto, where the priest was already seaten. He knows that his mum and Jay were sitting only a few seats away, whispering to each other and he knows exactly about what they were talking about. Gemma doesn't turn up, because she didn't want to. She was one of those few who knew their pretty little secret and she didn't want to see her baby brother all sad.

Lottie and Fizzie were the bridesmaids, so they had to prance around in their dresses Phoebe and Daisy were running around being the flower girls, he knew that they were only trying to occupy themselves. Ernest and Doris were the ring bearers, who were standing straight with cute little bow-ties. There was buzzling crowd and yet, he felt lonely.

Niall sat two seats away, playing with his fingers. He was probably too timid to look at Harry because Harry eavesdropped on them, saying that 'it was harsh on Harry'. Since Liam was the best man and he was away, Zayn sat between both of them. He was completely restless, tapping his foot furiously, knocking his knees together and doing his infamous habit of lip-biting.

He pulls out a cigarette, tapping it against the lighter, then putting it back in the pack with the rest of them. Zayn smokes when he's stressed and everyone knew that. He takes it once again and puts it back in. He does this again and again, until finally it reaches his lips and lights it.

"Don't smoke," Harry scowls, plucking the cigarette from the latter's fingers and throwing it aside. Zayn cusses under his breath while furrowing his eyebrows, producing another one. Harry flicks that one away too. "You don't smoke at weddings."

Zayn's eyes having a raging fire, his jaw hastening. "You call this a wedding?" he confronts a little too loudly for Harry's taste. There are people's eyes on them and Harry hisses for him to be quiet. He lets Zayn take out another and smoke it this time.

Soon, there are paparazzi outside, watching the wedding as the groom stands at his place. The bride walks down the aisle with her father. None of the two are happy, because both of their boyfriends are in the crowd, watching-Max on one and Harry on the other.

Eleanor casts a desperate glance at Harry and he's pretty sure he's mirroring it. Louis looks at his feet the whole time until when the priest starts reciting the vows, Louis stops him. He walks to the microphone a few meters away. He clears his throat for the bickering people stop.

"Um, you all are wondering why I'm here instead of saying my vows. I wanted to say a few of my own instead of repeating after the Father. I want to be loud enough to be heard till where it has to," his eyes fleet over to Harry. "I mean, saying them this way is better."

"I will be there, from the start to the ending. Through all the obstacles and bumps along the road we will journey through. I promise to cherish each memory, each moment we will have together. I will treasure the beautiful bond we share eternally. I will love you to infinite and numbers beyond that. I will nestle-"

Harry stops listening, it's more like his ears stop working. Because these words are coming out Louis' mouth, Louis' mouth. Their eyes don't part even for a second as he speaks. It's like every syllable is devoted to Harry, it is. Louis speaks so confidently and the color of his eyes comes back more and more. Harry can feel the hot tears prick his eyes.

"To have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poor, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward, till death do us part." Louis is smiling now, his wonderful vibe is back. He pauses before he looks at the audience. "I meant every word I said," he glances at Eleanor with a coy-but-not-so-coy smile. "But, Eleanor, love, they aren't for you."

There's a collective gasp from the crowd, though a few are unfazed. Eleanor's face splits into a ear-to-ear grin and she searches the spectators to find a guy who's looking at her she's a pearl from the ocean. Harry himself is surprised. Niall and Zayn have this knowing smile playing on their lips.

Louis takes out something from his backpocket, a familiar paper. Harry gasps when he sees it in Louis' hands. It's his letter. He pats his own pocket, realizing it wasn't there. And it strikes him that he must have took it when he hugged him. Harry watches with awe as Louis' grin falls again.

"I've read it," he sighs, shaking his head. "I don't think you have to rub it in my face now." Harry is completely speechless. He doesn't know what he's doing, but he knows he's crying. That is the only function his body is capable of doing right now. "These are the vows, the person I love wrote for me. But, I won't read them out to you, because they're for me and for me only."

"Let me tell you all a story, just to beat around the bush. There were two boys who fell in love-"

"Louis!" That was Liam. Harry just wants to march upto him and slap him across the face.

"No, Liam, let me," Louis firmly plants down his opinion. "There were two boys who fell in love. They weren't allowed to be together. Why? Because it was wrong to be gay. Others tried to force one of them into a straight marriage, their plan kinda backfired, because right now one of them is making you listen to a story."

"If you've figured it out, yes, it's me and Harry. For those who knew, yeah, you did expect it all along, eh? And for those who haven't, sorry for the shocker." he mumbles. Harry couldn't help but think how much of a mumbling idiot he is. Louis looks Harry straight in the eye, and Harry's sure he's going to die.

"I love you so much Harry, _so much_. I've waited so long to say that out loud, I know I can't wait longer. But, those idiots who're sitting in the last seats, yeah our wonderful management, listen up. I'm saying this and the whole world is listening. I love Harry. I love Harry. _I love Harry!_ "There are snickers within the crowd, but that's the least observed.

"I'm sorry we had to wait this long, but we got through, finally. I don't want to be with anyone else, 'cause you're one of a kind and I only like your kind of 'Harry's'. I'm sorry for all the times I pushed you away, even today morning." He pauses, without moving his gaze, he says, "El, you can go to Max now, I know he's dying to hug you." There's a clatter of heels and Harry knows that she's out of the picture now.

"Harry, I don't have words to say this. I don't think I can say anymore. I meant every word I said and I will always mean it. That's how much you mean to me...so, be mine?" Louis' long speech ends and there is prolonged silence, it's deafening.

Harry is crying. It's involuntary, really, because he doesn't want to cry now. He wants to smile at Louis, but his tears won't stop skidding down his cheeks. "Harry, this is the part where you come running all the way here, jump into my arms and kiss me passionately," Louis says, there isn't a hint of humor in his tone, he's dead serious. Harry hangs his head low, his curls splaying over his forehead.

"Harry, just come and _kiss_ me!" Louis calls out, but Harry is in no state to even move a centimeter. Sobs rack his body and he's shaking all over. There's a thunder of footsteps and he can someone's kneeled in front of him.

"Hey..." Harry know that voice anywhere, it's hynotizing. Louis cups his cheek, forcing him to meet eyes, Harry can't. "Harry, don't cry, please don't cry," Louis' voice is fragile, like he's trying to speak to a little kid, and that's how Harry feels right now.

He's hiccupping now, grabbing Louis' face in his hands. Their noses brush against each others, as Louis stretches his neck up to Harry. "I love you, I love you," he murmurs, pressing his lips to the Louis'. They kiss, it's not perfect. It's rather sloppy and very salty from the tears from both of their eyes. But, this imperfection is enough.

They're too oblivious to the surroundings of booming applause, wolf-whistles from their bandmates, weeping of their mothers and even the priest saying 'Now, I pronounce you husband and husband'.

When they're strong enough to stand up, they're congratulated by numerous people, taken pictures of and feeling light hearted. They didn't know till Liam came.

"Did guys know you just got married?" Liam asks. Harry chokes on his champagne and Louis stares wide-eyed.

"What?" both of them say in unison.

Zayn laughs, holding up a tipsy Niall. "He pronounced you husbands when you guys started snogging each other."

Harry doesn't know what to say. He wasn't asked whether he wanted to get married or not and he's married to Louis since the last twenty minutes and he didn't even know it. However, he's happy, because no one can force them apart now. God bless that priest!

The whole afternoon is a grand celebration. It's got fireworks in the daylight, tons of empty champagne bottles, screaming fans, burping men and yeah, the basics. Harry can't stop grinning and neither can Louis. Eleanor's off with Dan, he's pretty sure she feels sorry for missing their un-called wedding.

They cut the cake and end up having half of it on themselves. Jay and Anne hug the new couple, going hyper than normal. Louis' siblings are running around in a circle around them. Harry says, "I can't believe Gemma missed the best ruined-but-remade wedding in the world."

Louis laughs at this, tightening his grip on Harry's waist. He hasn't let go of him at all. His laugh is as sweet as honeydew. Harry can't help but kiss him again. He's definitely enjoying his new-found freedom.

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive my fifteen year-old self for writing this. It's nonsense, I'm sorry.


End file.
